What You Want to Know Or Not
by talking-eye
Summary: AU. My take on Cristina's POV on Colin Marlow. Originally posted on MTC.


A/N: I got the idea from Jessikay on MTC originally posted there... apparently. Cristina's POV.  
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I am a private person and I don't like to talk about the past. But I will tell if you must know.

I can see that you're shocked. I mean, honestly, who wouldn't?

—How could a commitment-phobic like me end up spending three years with the same person?

Trust me, it's very easy, really, particularly when you don't think about it.

Let's see. We met at a conference. I at the front row among the audience, him the forerunner in taking over the stage with his wit.

I was a motivated student, of course, and talking to the most renowned surgeon was a natural course of action.

His cockiness and tilted British accent annoyed most people, but the way how he looked at me was stirring.

Many people told me I was attractive, but most ran away once they've talked to me.  
Marlowe didn't. He took up the challenge. He laughed at my jokes, and he made me laugh.

So a few good laughs turned into a serious conversation about attending his graduate seminar for free; a few more serious conversations and a few glasses of wine sent us to his suite.

I told you, it was very easy. I'm not ashamed to say so.

He wasn't young, but he had his charm. The medical journals on his shelf fascinated me. And the sex? It was slow, nothing explosive, but actually fun.

The serious note-taker in class got rewarded every night by treats to fancy restaurants, and the best activity after dinner? That's how one day became one week.

His classes were always interesting and I got to touch the untouchable in the lab. When my roommate complained about my prolonged absence, I realized it's been two weeks.

He didn't expect a lot from me, neither did I from him. We never dated, we never kissed— well, except before sex—but not the kind in movies that would make your foot pop up.

The seminar was over in two months, and I was still with him. In a way, we grew comfortable with the routine. He's busy, so was I. We met once a week and he always had something to teach me.

After six months, I began to worry. What if he became a habit I couldn't kick? It wouldn't be that bad if I was the only one—but I knew I wasn't.

We tried to stay away from each other, him for making sure it wouldn't become a scandal and I for trying to move on.

It might have ended right then and there had I found someone else, but as I said, there was no fish in the pond.

I have always been the best in school and I only got better after a year, even though he no longer taught me anything extra. So when he asked me to marry him, I ran away for a week.

I thought we're over, but every time he looked at me with a mixture of awe and desire in his eyes, we always found ourselves in each others' arms 3 hours later. Was it pity? Maybe.

Things became so smooth and natural he asked me to marry him again after two years. Apparently, I turned him down once more. He was kind to me, but you don't marry a person because of that.

I never used the key he gave me. We never lived together. But I knew where his favorite coffee mug was, and he remembered to prepare a huge towel to soak my hair every time I slept over.

We knew very little about one another, but those little things were hard to forget. I still think about them sometimes, as much as I hate to admit.

By the time we're together for three years, he asked me to marry him for the third time, on my graduation day.

This time, I had the perfect reason to flee. Was I being an ungrateful brat? I dared not ponder on it. It wasn't love; what obligation did I have to stay?

Three years of my youth spent with the same old professor. Do you think it didn't shock me as well?

But I was young and I was busy. I had a lot of other things on my mind. Why would I say no when there's something to take care of me, someone to watch out for me?

That's how one day became one week, one week became two weeks, two weeks became two months, two months became six months, six months became a year and then a year became three years.

I know that's not very exciting, but that's how things would be when there's no love; with you, it's a completely different story. We both know that, don't we?

THE END 


End file.
